Some People Need Saving
by Bre-dust2dust34
Summary: AU; Buffy and Angel are teens and from the opposite sides of the tracks with very different circumstances that come to light over a school project.  Dark Themes.
1. Prologue

**Some People Need Saving by Bre**

**Prologue**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, unless they have obviously been made up.  
Spoilers: Small spoilers for the entire BtVS 'verse and possibly AtS 'verse.  
Rating: Rated R. If it goes up, the chapter will be marked (applicable to Primordial Souls only).  
Distribution: Please ask me. Thank you.  
Author's Notes: Quite a few of the characters are... out of character. Or extremely exaggerated in their character. I took some liberties with some of them to fit my idea of the story. Feedback - positive/negative - is appreciated.  
Author's Notes 2: This is an intensely rewritten version! The old version can be seen  
Feedback: Appreciated!  
Summary: AU; Buffy and Angel are teens and from the opposite sides of the tracks with very different circumstances that come to light over a school project.

* * *

She woke from her fitful sleep to a loud slap against the wall.

She sat up rigidly, blinking rapidly, her eyes dry and sticky from sleep. She felt exhaustion battle her every movement, her limbs heavy and hard to lift as she raised her fingers to rub her face. The sound was repeated against the wall of her bedroom and she jumped, her eyes snapping open, forgetting about the scratchiness as she stared into the darkness.

There was silence for a moment and she swallowed, looking around. She heard a car somewhere outside her open window and she slowly got up out of bed, stretching her legs. She was in a fog as she moved towards the fresh air. She hadn't had time to change from the clothes she'd worn to school that day and her shirt was twisted around her body from her listless moving.

She leaned out the window, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She was so tired; just the simple act of shutting her eyes reminded her and she leaned against the sill, opening them lazily. Her mind was blank, she felt like she was floating... out and away.

A heavy bang against her bedroom door jerked her out of her empty musings and back to reality. She spun around, her heart pounding wildly against her rib cage as another slam quickly followed. Fear wreaked havoc in her body and she felt lightheaded as her pulse quickened. The door rattled again.

"She locked the goddamn door," she heard a low angry mutter from the other side and she hugged herself, sitting down on the edge of her bed, watching the knob. Her wrist ached with the ghost of where his large hand had wrapped around it earlier in the night.

She heard a softer voice saying something muffled on the other side and a loud grunt was the response followed by someone trying the doorknob once again. Staring at the floor, she concentrated on the voices but she couldn't decipher what was being said before a fist slammed into the wood.

Her hands immediately went up to her ears, covering them tightly as she squeezed her eyes shut, pushing her chin into her chest.

_Go away, go away..._

Indecipherable yelling could be heard from the other side as he punched the door once more. Seconds or minutes passed… she couldn't tell before she released her grip on her ears after a pregnant pause. She felt a sharp pain in the side of her head and a dull numbness in her fingertips and realized she had been squeezing.

Silence.

She relaxed her muscles slightly; she fixed her gaze to the floor once more. Her eyes weren't dry anymore as tears leaked out but she barely felt them. Her bruised side felt tight and she forced herself to relax further to ease the strain, wincing.

She was so tired. Every cell in her body was alert to the next disturbance but all her mind wanted to do was sleep, collapse. Fall off and never wake up here again.

Taking a shallow breath, she finally looked up to the door but didn't move to unlock it to see what had distracted him. It usually didn't take him that long to find one either way and she didn't want to invite his intrusion back into her room.

She didn't move. She waited. Time escaped her but she couldn't will herself to look anywhere else but her bedroom door. Swallowing, she took a deeper breath and allowed herself to relax and lay back down; hoping the rest of her night would be less eventful. She glanced at the dim alarm clock next to her bed and she groaned; she only had a few more hours until she had to be ready for class.

She wasn't sure when she closed her eyes but the return of the loud noise hitting her wall again jolted her awake and she once again sat up, staring at her wall.

She wanted to know what was going on. She wanted to be able to get up and walk around her own house without fear of what she would run into.

But she didn't move.

It was only after thirty minutes of silence that she was able to lay down and another hour before she fell asleep, curled tightly on her side.


	2. Part One

**Some People Need Saving by Bre**

**Part One**

Author's Notes: See Prologue for disclaimers and story info. The beginning of this part is pretty background heavy. Suffer through it and you will be rewarded. :) Also, after this part, I will be posting updates to the story on Primordial Souls ahead of updating the story on here.

* * *

The small room was dark - always dark - the blinds of the filthy windows closed tightly, barely letting slim chances of the beginning daylight slip through where the plastic was bent or broken. Sparse furniture decorated the threadbare carpeted floor, stains highlighting where larger pieces had once sat. Now, it was just empty.

Buffy Summers walked into the living room quietly, her shoes tapping softly as she took in her mother passed out on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whisky resting on the ground, tipped on its side next to where she laid on the dirty beige couch. The rise and fall of her chest was the only sign the woman was alive; otherwise her face was ashen, her cheeks sunken in and the hollows of her eyes deathly. Buffy stared at her for a split moment, her face impassive, before moving towards the front door, dodging the coffee table that had been pushed against the wall.

A groan came from the hinges as Buffy opened it and she paused, her heart suddenly fluttering to life as she turned around quickly, gripping the door, the sudden pumping of her blood rushing through her ears in a white noise. She waited but was greeted with nothing but silence. The bed sheets rustling echoed from the gray darkness of the hallway leading to the bedroom at the opposite end of the house.

Nothing followed.

Her father continued to sleep.

Snatching her discarded backpack from where she'd dropped it the night before, she quickly closed the door gently and skipped tensely down the porch stairs, not bothering to lock it. She didn't even know where her key was anymore.

Buffy walked swiftly down the driveway, crossing the street without looking for cars. The moment she was out of sight of the small house, she'd be more at ease; she'd worry about the outside world dangers once she was away from inside ones.

Crossing the yard of a corner home, she glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to see her father rushing out of the house, chasing her. A chill ran down her back in feared anticipation but the yard remained blissfully empty. She hadn't felt the need to run like this in a long time but the night before hadn't exactly been sunshine and roses. Buffy absently rubbed her left wrist as she lost sight of the house.

Pulling up her sagging jeans, she took a deep breath.

Another day escaped. One more morning averted.

The sun beat down on her head, warming her underneath the heavy black sweatshirt as she walked briskly to school – Sunnydale High. It was rejuvenating, as it was every morning; passing through the stormy fog of her home life into the brighter parts of her reality.

Blinking rapidly against the bright rays, it reminded Buffy of the fading bruise still visible in the hollow of her left eye from a fight a few weeks ago. She couldn't remember what it was about or who it was with but the sting of hot anger coursing through her was still very fresh. She remembered her eyes blurred; her arm pulled back for the final punch…

It hadn't taken Snyder more than one minute to appear and break up the fight. He had called her house, had discussed suspending her for a few days – with far too much pleasure, she remembered, having been sitting in his office while he talked on the phone – but her father had talked him down, saying he would take care of it. He had said that Buffy would be punished accordingly.

When she came home that night that is exactly what he had done, with the leather of his stocky belt and the hard steel of his working boots. The bruise hidden against her ribs was still very much evident, an ugly array of colors that hurt to even look at. One wrong move adjusting her backpack put more strain on her side than it would have with a normal bruise and running into anything too roughly was completely out of the question. The good news was that she could say it was finally healing. It didn't feel broken and it didn't hurt to breathe nearly as much as it had when she'd acquired it.

Thinking outside the pain wasn't such a challenge anymore either way. Her wounds always took longer to heal than they probably should but it was worth it not showing that part of her life to the cleansing daylight.

Buffy stared at the cracked sidewalk, holding the straps of her bag. She kicked a lone piece of rubble away, her mind slowly turning over. She was hungry. She had skipped the fast food dinner from last night because she had quipped the wrong thing with her father and she never allowed herself enough time in the morning to eat any breakfast, not that he kept much food in the house. He hadn't for years, the money usually gone long before a shopping trip is ever planned. Any food that found its way in was usually gone within the day.

_Fucker_, Buffy thought bitterly, biting her lip. Her memories always brought back the sickly acidic feeling in the pit of her stomach. She could still remember clearly, even six years later, how her entire life had been turned upside down, almost in the space of a day. From happy to miserable with the snap of her father's fingers… something to do with the stock market, her father investing in something or other, trusting the wrong people; playing dirty... Cheating was more like it. She didn't know the details and she didn't want to. It was a few months after the initial financial slap that she and her mother found out about the secretary he had been having an affair with after he attempted to fly to some hole in South America and his card had been rejected followed shortly by the rejection of his whore.

That proved to be the final straw for Hank Summers. That was the first time he got drunk around his family.

It felt like things went quickly downhill after that. What were surely a few hours in Buffy's mind were actually a few years. Looking back on it, she felt like she had been in a daze the entire time. It wasn't long before they lost their house. Lost their furniture and clothes in an effort to sale what they could to save what they had, but it turned out over and over to not be enough.

After the house was taken by the bank, Hank moved the family to Sunnydale where her mother had a job offer at the local gallery, a small town where the good side of town and the bad side of town were barely a mile from each other; "a one Starbucks town," according to her friend Xander when she first arrived, not that she had such luxury.

They quickly settled in, managing to rent a small house in one of the smaller subdivisions. It wasn't the prettiest of houses, hardly able to compare to their L.A. home; but they couldn't afford anything to be proud of. Unfortunately this included her father's frequent trips to the bar as Hank proceeded to spend his days at the closest one to their new home, getting shit-faced while his wife took up working at the gallery, becoming their only source of income.

This wasn't a huge problem because Joyce Summers threw herself into her work. She genuinely liked art and knew what she was doing. She had loved her new job.

Of course good things never actually last.

As the years passed, Hank held and dropped multiple jobs, mostly manual labor that he refused to continue going to. Sometimes; a majority of the time it was because he couldn't go more than one day without having alcohol flowing through his system. He hid it well for the first month but by the three-month mark it was too obvious to ignore. Any money he managed to make was fueled back into some bar or liquor store.

What used to be silly jokes and fun quickly turned into sessions of anger when he had liquor in his system. Despite the misery of their existence, his drinking was an escape until reality seeped in too deep and instead of being able to run away, he fell farther into its darkness.

The first time he hit her mother it was over Joyce buying Buffy a dress for the ninth grade homecoming dance. She kept saying she wanted to get something "normal" for her daughter and her reward had been her father reaching out over the dinner table and slapping his wife.

It certainly hadn't been anything fancy; it was a find in a thrift store. Buffy could hardly remember the last time she had had clothes bought for her. The clothes she outgrew were sold and most of everything she owned was either from her mother's old stash that Joyce kept during their numerous sales while they were still in Los Angeles; "gotta lose money to make money," he father repeated over and over. When Joyce managed to save a little money on the side, she encouraged Buffy to go out and get herself some clothes that fit better.

Buffy remembered vividly that night he first hit Joyce. She had fallen out of her chair and when Buffy had started crying, he had thrown a plate full of food against the wall; his fist had met with the table and a glass of milk had fallen over... A week later when Buffy came home with tear in the knee of her jeans from her gym class - she didn't have gym clothes that day and was playing in her day clothes - and she had been introduced with the power of his fist. From that point on, Buffy walked on eggshells. She began to realize that the Hank Summers that she had known as her father was gone. In his place was a monster playing the part of the man who had quickly transformed into her worst nightmare.

It didn't take long for Joyce to jump on the alcohol swigging wagon. It began in the middle of the night followed by sips after dinner when Hank would disappear. It got worse after her first black eye. Soon she was drinking with full vigor. When Buffy had innocently asked her why she was drinking so much and why it made her cry after a while, Joyce said it helped numb her. Made the pain easier, made living with her husband easier and made realizing that everything that had been good in her life had been ripped away. She effectively told Buffy that their lives had turned to shit and drinking was the only way for both her and Hank to handle anything anymore.

Her mother became a shell of the beautiful woman she had been in Los Angeles.

And then she stopped showing up for work. If it wasn't the bruise on the side of her head, it was the hand print on her arm. Then it became sleeping in, coming in late and then she stopped showing up altogether.

Buffy hated her for it. Hated how weak she had become and hated her father even more because he did it to her. To his own family; he had turned them to shit. She felt her insides stiffening at the thought of her mother lying on the couch at home, dead to the world. Her father blacked out on the bed. How long before he drank himself to death and she and her mother were rid of him? Even if she was returned to barely a ghost of herself, Buffy would be happy. She'd be Joyce again, if just a little.

She should feel shame in wishing that she hoped he would die every single day for being the worst man she's ever know... but she didn't. Her eyes were dry but she was crying, always weeping on the inside, not for the man who claimed to be her father but at the shit hole that passed for her life.

Money became very scarce after that and she always found herself wondering how any food landed on the table at all.

Looking up as a red car flew past her, Buffy saw the school in the far distance, people already milling around the grass and sidewalks near the front entrance. She didn't see the trademark flash of red hair and she slowed her pace. Buffy didn't like having to stand around out front or having to sit at a table by herself, staring at the wood while she waited for her friends.

Almost against her will she found herself pausing when she found Liam Angelus where he leaned against the trunk of a tree. She couldn't tell what he was doing as far as she was but she shook her head, her brow furrowing. Why should she care what he was up to? He didn't give her the time of day and she shouldn't even be staring at him... as she was in that very moment. She couldn't take her damn eyes off of him and everything in her willed him to turn his head her way, smile at her, wave at her.

It wasn't too long ago that she thought there might be some interest coming from him, when she first moved to Sunnydale. It had been a little tickle in the bottom of her stomach, before he ever got with Cordelia... Sitting next to him in class, talking every once in a great while. He had even smiled at her once.

But then it had disappeared - a figment of her hopeful imagination - while her feelings for him seemed to stick around with a newfound resilience.

He was wearing his customary jeans and fitting t-shirt. He was so defined and bulky for his age and where most boys were scrawny and awkward, Liam walked with confidence and authority. He demanded respect from people - really just another reason to think of him as the ultimate jerk - but... with his strong jaw and dark features, healthy head of hair and large, beautiful hands... Buffy felt herself blush and look away, annoyed and ashamed. What could she possibly see in him? What could she possible offer a boy like him, what did she have to give, especially when he already had something the entire male population of the school envied.

Cordelia Chase sauntered up to him and Buffy could see him smile from where she was as he pushed off the tree to meet her. She kissed him quickly on the lips and he wrapped his arm around her waist. They were the quintessential teenage couple of Sunnydale High School. Popular, gorgeous beyond belief and utterly adorable together, she thought sarcastically. Buffy felt her stomach twist; she couldn't tear her eyes away as Cordelia leaned in and whispered in his ear, handing him her books as she turned to approach her other half.

Harmony Kendall and Cordelia Chase made a cutesy show of doing the French air kisses on their cheeks and appraising each other's clothes. It was people like these that made Buffy hate herself even more. They had everything: the clothes, the cars, the houses, the parents who didn't hate each other and abuse themselves and everything around them. And because they had all of this they felt it gave them the right to look down on people like her. It would be a very cold day in hell when Cordelia didn't quip about Buffy's clothes or her hair and Harmony didn't remark on her lack of makeup which "makes her look like a sallow cow. Not that makeup would help." _Cackle cackle._ A little gaggle of girls followed both of them as Cordelia turned and grabbed Liam's hand, pulling him into the fray.

_Yeah, Buffy, you've got a great chance with him, the King of Ignoring Everything But Precious Cordelia._ Buffy remembered a time when it hadn't always been like that. When he hadn't always been like that but that was a long, long time ago when she first came to town. Before, well, everything.

Slowly the crowd around them grew as Liam moved to his best friend who was attempting to make a snack of Harmony's neck. While Cordelia and Liam were The Couple, Harmony and William "Spike" Rosen - nicknamed for his penchant for railroad spikes and mostly because he insisted on it in middle school - were The Dysfunctional Couple. It worked in such a disgusting way and it only made the knife in Buffy's gut twist a little more because she knew she had more than a crush on the tall boy. The boy who couldn't deem himself low enough to even look twice at her anymore, if he even looked the first time. Buffy felt her eyes swelling slightly and she bit her tongue. Of all the shit in her life worth crying over, she chose Liam Angelus. _Very nice, Buffy, such a class act._

This was one of the countless moments in her life where having an on/off switch for her feelings would be great. Off. Done.

"Buffy!"

The sound of her name rolling brightly off the tongue of her best friend caught her attention and Buffy turned to see Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris reaching the school grounds as she was. Buffy grinned.

"Hey Will," she said, raising her hand to meet Willow's excited wave, making Buffy's attempt look like a wet sad noodle in comparison. She had to be the luckiest person in the world for this very reason: she had two of the best friends she could ever hope for. They didn't judge her or make fun of her or say anything about her home life. They accepted her and she loved them for it. This was always the bright spot in her day, knowing she had someone worthy in her life that made her feel less like the oil stain on people's driveways: unwanted and ugly.

"It's the Buffster!" Xander said with a goofy grin on his face, mock punching her shoulder. "Looking supah fine."

"And it's Xander... with his... what are you wearing?" she asked, her smile growing as she took in the monkey dancing on his t-shirt. "Better question: what is it throwing?"

Xander looked giddy as he pulled the t-shit out for better viewing. "Only a... brown banana." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Buffy laughed as Willow stared at his shirt. "That's not bananas."

"It is while I am at school, my sweet Willow friend," Xander replied, putting his arm around her shoulder. "It is while I am within the walls of this place of evil."

"School's not evil!" Willow protested, her hands clasped in front of her. "If you would turn in the homework I help you with every night, it wouldn't be evil."

"Homework schmomework." Willow rolled her eyes, not able to keep the smile from her face. It was moment's like this that Buffy marveled at the patience that was Willow's.

"What's up, Buffy?" Willow asked with glee practically flowing from her pores. Buffy wasn't sure if it was the fact that Xander's arm was still wrapped around her shoulders or if she was just in a really fantastic mood.

"Not much." She stuffed her hands in her pockets, gripping the inner pockets as she felt the jeans slip a little down her hips. "Forgot a belt. Having some slight pants issues."

"Is that a fact?" Xander asked, his eyebrows shooting up as Willow smacked his shoulder. Buffy chuckled.

"Would never happen, Xander... never," she countered playfully. Xander smiled innocently as the school bell rang in the background. A collective groan echoed through the student body. "There's our cue."

"Why bells?" Xander asked as they walked towards the front. "Isn't it bad enough having to hear Snyder's voice every day?"

Buffy and Willow giggled, the blonde shaking her head and opening her mouth to respond, blissfully distracted from the large group following them inside.

* * *

"I swear this school lets anyone in. There should be a dress code or something. I mean, would you look at her."

Cordelia Chase pointed her finger at Buffy Summers, her eyes scathing as they followed the girl, walking a short distance in front of her. She wrinkled her nose at the low-end jeans that were practically falling down her hips - hello, this only served to fuel the fire about her sleeping around with one of the teachers - and the shapeless black thing that she called a sweatshirt.

"I feel like my eyes are bleeding," she said with a dramatic pitch as she turned to her best friend. Harmony Kendall nodded, one of her eyebrows piqued as she stared.

"She can't even wash her hair," Harmony said with a sneer, flipping her own long dewy locks over her shoulder. "Personal hygiene, has she ever heard of it?"

"A guy's opinion, please... Liam, would you ever date that?"

Liam Angelus looked up when Cordelia touched his arm and followed her long, red nail as she pointed at the small group coming to a stop by some lockers. She could only be talking about Buffy Summers. His eyes narrowed as he took her in.

Everyone knew about her. They knew where she lived, that her father was a raging alcoholic with a raging fist when somebody displeased him; it wasn't news anymore when he would turn up outside the seediest bar downtown having been thrown out - again - because he got into another fight. Her mother wasn't any different. Liam couldn't honestly remember the last time he saw her mother sober, if he saw her at all. He would feel bad for Buffy if she wasn't such a damn bitch herself. He used to feel bad but as the years went on it died as she herself got worse.

She was just like any other student when she came from Los Angeles a couple of years ago and Liam had even entertained the idea of asking her out. Sure it was obvious that her home life wasn't the most ideal. She didn't seem to change clothes a lot and she was more withdrawn than a girl who looked like her should be but she was alright. They even talked a little here and there and he once got a genuine - gorgeous - smile from her. She used to be normal but it didn't last very long. Liam remembered the year she changed, after a summer away from school. She came back different, full of more anger and rage than she ever had before and she took all of it out on anyone who came near her. The only people she seemed to relax around were her less-than-fantastic friends. They formed a triangle of losers and misfits. A wonderful high school cliche; both Buffy and her little clique.

Gone was the interesting creature who had moved from L.A. and in her place was a broken form who toted a rather large chip on her shoulder.

"Not if you paid me in gold coins covered in naked women," he said, turning to throw a half-smile at his girlfriend, her eyes glazing into a glare at his words. He did so love getting under her skin, it was too easy.

"That's not funny, Liam. Seriously, she's a disease and somebody should look into getting it removed."

Liam was still staring at Buffy's back, staring at her thin body with slight revulsion - stick-thin was not what he would call exciting in the backseat of his car, especially when he had a Cordelia Chase running around with him; the blonde used to fit into that category, key words being 'used to' - when Buffy turned and caught his eye. Her cheeks immediately blotched red and her eyes widened. He stared at her blankly before turning away. The logical part of him knew that she was just lashing out because of the way of her life had turned, that she didn't ask for it. But it didn't help anything being a bitch to everyone and everything.

It didn't escape his attention that she looked more sickly than normal nor that she seriously needed someone to mend the deep crack hiding in her eyes but... It wasn't his concern. _Waxing poetry over the crazy girl... nice._

"Why waste your time on her, Cordy, she's not worth it."

"You're right," Cordelia said with an air of finality. She turned to look down her nose as they passed them, her voice becoming theatrical. "She's like a bad dog or something. She just needs to be put to sleep."

Liam snickered as he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her further down the hall towards his locker. Harmony and the rest of the Cordettes - as they had taken to being called in their sophomore year - continued to follow them, hanging on the brunette's every word. He briefly wondered where Spike had gotten off to.

"Remember that fight she got into a few days ago with that skanky Jennifer?" Liam nodded, remembering the wild look in Buffy's eyes as she had thrown her arm back and slammed her fist straight into Jennifer Mara's nose. She retaliated by elbowing Buffy in the eye but Buffy had gotten the last laugh when she yanked on Jennifer's hair and slammed the palm of her hand against Jennifer's chin. It all happened in a split second, the large crowd of students surrounding the two of them, before Snyder interrupted.

"Yeah, that was some good girl-on-girl action," he quipped, turning the dial on his locker and yanking it open. All this Buffy was talk was beginning to make him uneasy. Thinking too much about her made him uneasy. It was easier to keep her in the bitch category inside his head when he didn't remember how sweet she used to be, how much he really did used to like her and the first time she came to school with a nasty bruise... It wasn't worth remembering things like that. It was easier to keep her segregated into categories.

"She probably learned how to fight from her dad wailing on her at home," Cordelia said with derision in her tone. Liam glanced at her out the corner of his eye but didn't say anything as he pulled out one of his textbooks. Along with everyone knowing about the shit her parents had become, it wasn't uncommon knowledge that Buffy also received a roundly beating every once in a while. Liam swallowed uncomfortably at the thought of someone like her father punching Buffy the way she had punched Jennifer.

Talk about uneasiness.

It was one thing to have alcoholic parents who didn't take care of their own shit - including their own daughter - but it was another thing entirely when said parents took out their frustration on their child.

Hence the categories. It wasn't his life. It wasn't his business.

"She probably deserves it," Cordelia went on, leaning back against the lockers. Her eyes didn't leave the small group, completely ignorant of Liam's discomfort at her callous words. "Someone would the way she dresses."

* * *

Buffy looked up as she and Willow passed Liam rummaging around in his locker. Cordelia glanced at her before turning around, dismissing her. Buffy noticed her hand snake around Liam's upper arm as he filled his backpack, not noticing her grasp in the least. Her heart sunk a little deeper into her chest. The look he had given her earlier when they were passing Xander's locker... She could only imagine what she had looked like: her face had warmed in an instant and her eyes had turned into saucers when she noticed him looking directly at her. Their eyes had met and she felt her stomach becoming intimate with the floor before he had turned away.

Where the hell was Snyder when you needed him to break up some serious "no-touching" happening in the hallway? The one time she wanted the Rat Man to magically appear out of nowhere...

Breaking through the fog in her mind, she heard Willow's perky voice, talking about homework or a fuzzy purple rabbit or... a computer or something as they stopped at Willow's locker, having left Xander back at his.

"I'm sorry, what Will?"

Willow stopped in mid-sentence, frowning at her friend. "Are you okay, Buffy? Did something... happen this morning?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, unwilling to give the satisfaction of showing how much that simple sentence grated on her feelings. _I shouldn't have to answer shit like that,_ she thought bitterly, feeling an aggressive tug on her heart. Even from her best friend.

"Nothing more than the usual," she replied breezily. She waved her hand. "You know, mom passed out on the couch. Dad dead to the world in the bedroom. At least we can all hope." She smiled stiffly.

Willow frowned, pursing her lips. Buffy glared at her. "Seriously, nothing happened." Buffy wanted to feel bad about snapping at her but... these questions were bullshit. Well, more the unconscious pity seeping from her friend's eyes was the bullshit. "I was just distracted by someone. That's all."

"He's a jerk, Buffy," Willow said instantly, pulling out a folder. Buffy frowned in consternation that she knew immediately who she was talking about. She feigned annoyance that she was obviously so transparent but she felt a secret giddiness to clear the conversation from her parents to Liam Angelus. And he was a jerk; and it made her more of a jerk because she liked him... he was dating Cordelia Chase for god's sake, that spoke volumes right there.

"I know," Buffy mumbled.

"He's not worth it. He's a big ol' jerk face who dates... stupid people."

"I get it, Will." She brushed a strand of hair from her face. "He's a jerk; I'm an idiot for liking the jerk. Not uncommon knowledge around here."

"I didn't say that, Buffy..."

"No, I know. It's just..." She took a deep breath. She felt the sudden urge to turn to her friend and tell her everything and anything Liam-related but she pushed it away. He wasn't the person for her to like and she didn't want to encourage Willow knowing more about an additional failure on her part in life. She didn't have enough crap at home, she puts herself through more misery by liking someone she can never - not in a million years - have.

"It's just that I'm done with Downerville in Buffydom." She flashed Willow a wide grin. "Really."

"I'm here if you want to talk, Buffy," Willow said, closing her locker. She smiled. "Even if he's a jerkface."

Buffy laughed. "I know." She shrugged. "But there's nothing to talk about."

Her friend's eyebrow went up as she studied Buffy doubtfully.

"Well okay," Willow said. "How's your eye doing?"

_Welcome back to Downerville in Buffydom,_ Buffy thought. It was never too far out of reach. Buffy folded her arms and flinched at the pressure on her ribs.

"Healing." _The only thing._ "It didn't look that bad this morning; does it look worse here under these death lights?"

"It's a little shiny," Willow said reluctantly. "But not really all that noticeable."

"I don't know, I think I could help get that eye back to form," a voice sneered from over Buffy's shoulder. The blonde instinctively melted into a hostile stance as she turned around to face Jennifer Mara, her fists clenching.

Buffy smirked. Jennifer easily stood a couple of inches over Buffy's slight frame and was much wider, not that this was much of an aid towards her cause. She may have gotten in a good hit with her eye last time - right, fight with Jennifer was the cause for her current ailments - but that didn't mean Buffy hadn't kicked her ass then and she most certainly wasn't afraid to continue said ass kicking.

"Mara," Buffy said, cocking her head. "So eager to get closer to a broken jaw?"

Jennifer smirked. "Please. Your pussy slappings didn't do shit to me."

Buffy noticed Xander walking back towards them in her peripheral and she realized a small crowd had already begun to grow. Again. Xander shot her a warning look, fear and animosity in his eyes. Buffy wanted to tell him not to worry, things would be fine. Not only could she take care of herself, she could very easily take care of her friends against stupid assholes like this girl.

"Buffy..." Willow said with a tremor in her voice and Buffy felt her friend's hand on her shoulder. "Come on."

"Nah, Red, stick around," Jennifer continued, smiling coldly. She stepped up so she was breathing down onto Buffy and Buffy felt the bliss of adrenaline running through her veins in anticipation. "Your little bitch friend here needs to learn a few more lessons."

Buffy rolled her eyes, her relaxation in that moment not lasting as Jennifer continued, "Can't leave all the teaching to the parents." Buffy felt everything stop in that moment, slow everything down as she reacted in the only way she knew how to.

Some nasty snarls masquerading as laughter came from behind Jennifer and Buffy saw red. Fuck her and fuck her thinking she knew what she was talking about.

Buffy dropped her bag to the floor, advancing on her and Jennifer immediately backed up, her hands following; the cruel grin on her face grew, knowing she had hit a sore spot. Out of the corner of her eye Buffy saw Cordelia shaking her head and Liam staring intently as they too joined the crowd. The thought that she should step back, boys didn't like girls who actively pursued bruises... but then all of it was a blur as the students began murmuring the classic sounds of "FIGHT!"

Pulling her arm back, her hand closed into a fist, Buffy felt a strong hand grab her and pull her back. Buffy threw her head around to see Xander gripping her arm, his fingers white as her skin in their hold. Her eyes flew to Willow standing over his shoulder, looking frightened. Clenching her jaw, Buffy forced herself to stop and relax. She released her hand, her mind awhirl with too many thoughts but she took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Right. Fighting bad.

Groans of disappointment followed from the crowd; some rolled their eyes or threw up their hands and walked away. Some attempted to urge her on, throwing catcalls, but Buffy ignored them. She turned away, the fight instantly dying. Xander still gripped her arm.

She opened her mouth to tell him he can let her go when Jennifer stepped up and shoved her violently into a locker, taking advantage off her divided attention. She felt her shoulder slam into the metal and her head hit the sharp edge of the dial. Xander slipped and fell from the force of her movement. Buffy didn't think twice this time; she turned around, fire in her eyes and a snarl on her lips.

"Buffy!"

She could hear Xander vaguely from behind her but it was quickly drowned out by the shouts of enjoyment from the crowd. Grabbing a large chunk of muddy brown hair in her hand, Buffy yanked, closing Jennifer's shirt in her other fist as she prepared to slam her face in the locker, see how she fucking liked it. The bloodlust in the crowd grew. Jennifer was cursing wildly and grabbing at Buffy's clothes in return when suddenly Xander was back, grabbing Buffy around the waist and lifting her away from the other girl. Jennifer let out a yelp as Buffy took some of her hair with her, holding her head.

"You fucking cunt!" She slammed her hand into the locker.

"Put me down, Xander!" Buffy snapped, struggling in his arms but he ignored her, carrying her quickly through the crowd. She didn't care about the destination. She cared about the words that were streaming from Jennifer's mouth. "I'm not kidding, Xander!"

"Shut up, Buffy!" he growled back, grunting as she tried to twist out of his arms. They turned the corner and he dropped her gently against the wall. Buffy stumbled and turned around, running into Xander's chest. "No, you're not going back there."

"The hell I'm not!" She pushed him away, trying to get around him.

"Buffy!" Grabbing her shoulders, he steadied her in her tracks and she looked furiously into his eyes. He looked down at her; worry and fear were in his as they darted back and forth, trying to read what she might do, ready to push her back again. She exhaled loudly in frustration, her body adjusting to the lack of blood flow before she deflated. Looking down at the ground, she felt embarrassment creep onto her face as she took another deep breath. She saw more people coming around the corner, staring at her. She swallowed.

"Sorry... I'm sorry," she murmured, looking at him and then to Willow. The redhead was staring at her with wide eyes.

"It's okay," Xander said although his hold on her shoulders didn't ease. She smiled slightly, the grin not reaching her eyes as she looked back at him.

"Thank you," she said softly, not meeting his eye directly. She could feel the gratitude, yes, but she couldn't ignore the simmering rage underneath it. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to go back and slap that Jennifer Mara upside the head and watch her brain bleed out of her ears. She shrugged his hands off. "I'm good."

"Your head, Buffy," Willow said softly. She moved in as Xander reluctantly released his hold on her. Buffy lifted her hand to her forehead where she touched an open wound at the base of her hairline. She hissed when her dirty fingers pressed against the cut and she felt a sticky trail slipping down her forehead.

"Crap," she said absently; she stared at her bloody fingers. More blood, always more blood. It was in that moment that she felt the sharp pains in her ribs when she took a deep breath. She fought to ignore it, ignore the feeling of cloudiness in her head. She swallowed, forcing herself to focus on the moment.

"I'll take you to the nurse's office," Willow offered, handing Buffy her abandoned backpack. Buffy slipped it on, wiping the blood dripping down from her hair. It left a long smear along the back of her hand. "You don't look so good."

"Neither would that bitch if Xander hadn't dragged me away," Buffy said tightly without thinking, tugging on the straps of her bag. She stared at Xander. He couldn't understand how very little he had actually helped her; he had only helped to prolong the inevitable.

"Yeah, it would have been a grand idea to let you stay and get in trouble with Snyder. Again. That's the Buffy I know, thinking on her feet," Xander sniped, glaring at her.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Fine." Xander stared at her again and she took a deep breath. "I know, Xander, and I said thank you. You're right, I don't need the Troll Man ratting me out again."

The usual awkward silence that followed such talk about the possible repercussions followed for a split second. Her side ached. Just one more unavoidable unpleasantry in her life.

"Well, off to Mrs. Hatchkins I go," Buffy said, breaking the pause. It was kind of sad how often she said that line. "You don't have to come, Will. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" There was that stab of guilt again - how similar to the stabs of pain emanating from her side - as Willow watched her."

"Yeah. You know me: been there, done that." She shot them a smile, meant to be a sign of reassurance despite its falseness. "I'll see you guys in class." Before either could respond Buffy turned and started walking back the way they had come. She could feel the stares on her back but she didn't turn.

"Jesus, Buffy, watch where you're walking!"

Buffy started, snapping her head up to Cordelia standing a mere foot away from her. She furrowed her brow and frowned at her, unable to avoid switching her gaze to where her boyfriend was staring at her blankly. _Right, why would he care about a bleeding wound in my head?_

"Wow," Cordelia continued to muse, "that whole street urchin thing you've got going really works for you." Buffy could feel her skin tingling as her dark brown eyes swept down her body. "Getting into skanky fights just makes it all so much better."

The Cordettes surrounding her giggled and Cordelia smiled, looking on. She saw the amused look on Liam's face, his dark eyes burning into her and she could feel the sting of tears starting to collect in her eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The rush of adrenaline had left her feeling tired on top of her already present exhaustion. This was just the icing on the cake for the beginning of her day.

"Fuck off, princess," Buffy bit out, her eyes narrowed on Cordelia. "Go shove your nose up someone else's ass."

Cordelia's head jerked back in surprise and Liam smirked as Buffy swept past them, turning another corner, disappearing from their line of sight. She closed her fists, her eyes still flooding slightly, aggravated at herself that she let the brunette get to her so badly. Who was Cordelia Chase? A shallow, mean and piece of shit person who wouldn't know misery if it slapped her in her pretty little face.

Buffy touched her side softly, pressing against the bruised ribs, wincing in pain. She hadn't wanted to show anything in front of anyone, especially Willow and Xander. They didn't know the extent of the damage she sustained as a consequence of her last run in with Snyder. Looking back, she felt the rush roaring through her at the prospect of meeting with Jennifer but then Xander's face and Willow's eyes came back to her and she relaxed. They just didn't understand how much better she felt laying it out on the other girl...

Buffy realized how stupid she was being, letting herself go like that.

Taking a deep breath, she stopped walking for a moment, closing her eyes. The shrill stab that let her know exactly where her father's boot had connected with her ached horribly, and she bit her lip, the pain that she had so easily ignored earlier so much more intense.

She suddenly thought about Liam, touching Cordelia and Cordelia pawing away at him. _Great distraction, Buffy_. She knew it could never be her. He wouldn't understand; he would take one look and run away; one look at her abused body and he would be gone. Why would she even want to tell him? The shame and embarrassment she felt was enough for her to never talk to him in the slight chance that he ever did find out the full extent of it.

A tear slid down her cheek and Buffy angrily brushed it away. Tears were unaffordable in her life, they didn't get you anywhere but trouble and unwanted emotions. Screw the people who didn't understand, she didn't need them or their sympathy. Life was a shit hole and she had to believe it wouldn't stay that way.

_Get out... get out... while you still can. Save yourself for just a little longer and then freedom from this monstrosity..._

Buffy took a shallow breath and continued on to the nurse's office, the dried blood on her head making her skin feel tight when she moved her forehead.

* * *

Buffy paused as she entered the main office, looking around discreetly... no Snyder. No anyone really, which was surprising as she dodged into the adjoined nurse's office. Mrs. Hatchkins looked up from her novel - some crime scene investigation sort of book - and her eyes widened when she saw Buffy's state.

"Miss Summers, what happened to your head?" Mrs. Hatchkins was an older Southern woman who had moved to California after her husband died to be with their only daughter. The stiff accent in her voice was always strangely comforting to Buffy, someone who had once upon a time lived outside of the world she occupied. It helped that the large, gray-haired woman was one of the sweetest people to her out of the staff at Sunnydale High, in a mother-hen sort of way. She also rarely saw her own daughter and she often stopped to talk to Buffy when she really didn't have to. Buffy smiled despite herself at the concern in the nurse's voice.

"I got pushed into a locker," Buffy admitted, her fingers unconsciously going up to touch her wound, instantly regretting it as the stinging pain caused her to wince. Mrs. Hatchkins stood up.

"Come on, come on," she said, moving around with an assured efficiency of knowing where everything was and know what to do with all of it. She pulled out a few bandages and some peroxide, motioning for Buffy to follow her across the room to the small sink in the corner. "What happened?"

"Nothing serious. Just a little fight." Buffy watched the older woman prepare some cotton balls.

"You and thar Mara girl again?" Mrs. Hatchkins said, eyeing Buffy who looked down at the floor. The nurse started cleaning the blood off of Buffy's forehead. She hissed softly when she reached the wound and closed her eyes against it. "Another fight?"

"Just a little one." Buffy's voice was small. She pouted slightly but only because it gave her a small warm fuzzy feeling that Mrs. Hatchkins responded to it.

"What happened then?"

"Nothing really. Xander grabbed me away before anything could happen." _To her._

"Mr. Harris," she clarified. "He's a good friend then."

"Yeah. He is."

Buffy watched as the nurse suddenly reached behind Buffy for something - more cotton balls, a Band-Aid, she wasn't sure - but her arm bumped into hers and straight into her side. Buffy gasped loudly at the sudden touch to her ribs, her bruise all the more sensitive after the manhandling from just a few moments ago. Tears popped into her eyes and she closed them instantly, swallowing them down.

"Buffy?"

She smiled before she opened her eyes. "I'm fine." It was the kind of pain that took your breath away, it was so powerfully deep. She shook her head; trying to shake the pain away.

Mrs. Hatchkins stared at her. "Did something happen to your side in the incident?"

Buffy finally opened her eyes and shook her head, meeting her eyes. She didn't like what she saw there, pausing. Mrs. Hatchkins didn't believe her own words. She shook her head again, smiling tightly. "No, I'm fine. Just took me... by surprise." She crossed her arms, stiffening as the motion put more stress on her side.

"Would you mind if I took a look?"

Buffy laughed, almost shrilly, and she shook her head. "No no," she said awkwardly. "It's no big." The comfortable air from when she had first entered the office was completely gone. In its place were far too many pregnant pauses. The thought that she should get up and out of there floated in her head. She refused to look at the nurse as she moved to throw away the used cotton balls.

Mrs. Hatchkins may be the nicest person to her in the entire school building in a way that only she could achieve... but that was because she didn't know anything about Buffy. And Buffy wanted to keep it that way, she didn't need to know how useless she was.

Forcing herself to stand still, she flinched every few seconds as Mrs. Hatchkins inspected the cut and deeming it "not-too-bad," she proceeded to attach a large bandage across it, hidden just under her hairline. She felt some her hair being pulled.

"There, that's better." Buffy watched as the nurse washed her hands vigorously. More awkward followed when Mrs. Hatchkins stared at Buffy for a moment, waiting for her to just spill the beans on what was going on.

Nothing happened.

"Now I don't want to have to see you in here again, you hear?"

Buffy wasn't sure as to what she was referring to; she looked more serious than she should be with a simple cut but she nodded either way.

"Yes, ma'am," she said, giving a tiny fake salute in an effort to dilute the tense air.

Mrs. Hatchkins smiled slightly. "Now let me get you a pass to your next class."

"Thanks. I..." Buffy paused. "I appreciate it." She smiled as she took the pass. The woman nodded her head and watched Buffy grab her bag carefully and leave the office.

As she walked out the door, she didn't turn or she would see Mrs. Hatchkins watching her go, her eyes full of worry.

She shook her head. "That poor girl."


	3. Part Two

**Some People Need Saving by Bre**

**Part Two**

**(Dark Themes - Please be warned.)**

* * *

Buffy sat slumped in her chair in English, her head resting on her pointer and middle fingers as she listened to the monotonous tone of her teacher. It had been a few classes since the incident in the hallway and she had yet to hear a word about it from anyone. More importantly from Snyder and she hoped it stayed that way. The bandage was still secure and mostly hidden under her hair.

Willow sat next to her, taking notes eagerly about the requirements of the project being dissected to them. Buffy sighed, half in tediousness and half in exhaustion, wondering how Willow could sit in class and not be bored out of her mind. Buffy would love nothing more than to shut her eyes and take a nap, which would be the extent of her enjoyment for this day.

Xander sat behind Willow and when Buffy glanced back to see if he was paying attention, she snickered. He was asleep. It looked like he was slipping the way he was seated, slowly but very surely. His palm was the only thing holding his head and it was hard not to watch; wait for the inevitable.

Turning around to face the front, Buffy noticed Liam sitting on the other side of Willow, talking softly with Spike. Their voices were hushed and they laughed silently every few seconds; Buffy couldn't make it out, they were too far - and she was obviously too far gone because she wanted to know. She rolled her eyes at herself.

Her attention drifted back to the teacher as she wrote something on the blackboard behind her. She mindlessly copied what she saw on the board. A research project on the poets and their poems, their meaning... something, Buffy wasn't sure. It was quite possible it involved what they were supposed to have read the night before, which she had not done. Come to think of it, she wasn't even sure if she had her textbook for this class anymore or not... it had to be hiding in her locker somewhere.

She switched her pen to her left hand, doodling randomly in the margin of her paper. Why not, she was probably already going to fail that one anyway. Sarcasm made everything easier.

"Alright, now that I have talked you all into boredom... Xander being the best example." Buffy turned to see if he was really still out of this world and she reached over and shoved his notebook into his arm. Xander's eyes snapped open and his elbow slipped, making him stumble and almost fall out of his chair. The class laughed in unison and Willow turned to look at him; she more looked ready to scold him for the teacher.

"What? Why... What?" he asked, looking around before smiling sheepishly. "Thank you, thank you."

Ms. Murray looked bemused, continuing on, "The project is simple but complex at the same time. I'm handing out a list to each group of specific names and I want you to pick one and create a ten-minute presentation - no shorter, no longer - and a ten-page report based on that person's life, their work and how the two correlate. In this I want you to choose three poems from that person and interpret each one using the skills we've been going over the last week: annotate and decipher, not just finding the meaning they wanted but what the poem means to you. This will be a chance for you to not only understand the creator of the poems but how they have related to people over the generations. Easy right?"

A few in the class groaned, some yawned and the others stared blankly.

"I want the presentation to be visual: use pictures, use the metaphors, use your poems, it doesn't matter. The main thing is I want some creativity and some thought going into these projects, people. It will be the partner to your written report. Think of it as an excuse to not have to read your report in front of the class but it doesn't mean you get to skate along too easy. The two need to work together and you do need to explain your visual aid to the class. Keep in mind I will be timing you and that will be counted as a part of your grade."

Ms. Murray turned to her desk and collected a pile of light pink pre-printed papers ready to be handed out. "This will be due in one month. This will be part of your final grade. This is to be taken seriously as this will affect your passing grade for the year." She paused once more for effect.

"I had the computer randomly put everyone in two-people groups and that will be your research partner. There are no ifs, ands or buts about who you're working with. We will spend the remainder of the hour with everyone meeting and discussing your choices." She paused, looking around to catch every eye that was looking at her. She held up the sheaf of papers in her hand and waved them slightly. "No debates and no switching. I want everyone's decision written on the bottom half of one of these papers. Please tear that half off and return it to me before you leave class today. Do not lose the top half of that sheet as it has what is required laid out and what you will need for a passing grade on this."

Ms. Murray picked up a list stuck to a clipboard. "Alright, people, listen up: Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg. Harmony Kendall and William Rosen." Spike scoffed, turning to roll his eyes at the blonde sitting across the room next to Cordelia. She sneered in return, flipping her hair. A few chuckles were heard. "Cordelia Chase and Jonathan Levenson."

'What?" Cordelia snapped incredulously, turning around to look at her would-be partner offensively. Cordelia shot daggers at Ms. Murray. "I don't want to be with him."

"No debates, Miss Chase," Ms. Murray said without a pause, ignoring the strangled "but" slipping from the brunette's lips as she went on, "Liam Angelus and Buffy Summers."

Buffy felt her heart stop and jump up her throat before it slammed into her stomach before rinsing and repeating. Her eyes widened in shock. She turned to Willow, waiting to hear she was imagining things but she only got a sympathetic look in return and a little shrug, almost a 'what are you gonna do?' Her eyes switched to the boy she was assigned to the project with and got nothing for her efforts. He was acting like he hadn't heard their names in the same sentence; he was continuing on in his conversation with Spike.

Buffy thought she heard Cordelia behind her saying, "Now I know this isn't right," but she didn't stop to confirm it.

"Percy West and..."

The words faded and Buffy turned to look at her notebook. Shock, this was shock. Surely the universe wasn't that cruel. She felt like she had been sucker punched and she frowned hard. No. She may make her heart do this stupid flutter thing but... he was Liam Angelus. She needed a good grade in this class - she didn't exactly allow herself the adequate studying time for all of the smaller assignments and now she needed to kick ass on the one large assignment to save herself. She felt her stomach tightening at the prospect of possibly failing because of this project, possibly because of her partner... and the consequences that would follow. She knew she would do the work to the best of her ability but she needed her partner to help her out. She was not nearly as academically friendly as Liam Angelus and if he wanted to jack around and leave her hanging? Damn it. It didn't help that she was secretly giddy and doing some sort of dance of idiocy inside her head at the prospect of being near him for more than five seconds...

She was a stupid, stupid girl.

The teacher continued on and Buffy just sat staring at her notebook, waiting for her to finish and get the list of choices to them so they could choose and she could get out so she could properly digest this new bit of information.

"Alright, let's use this time wisely, people," Ms. Murray said, talking over the loud rumble of voices as they discussed their partner choices. She began passing out the pink papers. "You only have a few minutes before class is over and I want your choices in before you leave! I should mention that this will be a first come, first serve basis so if you find the poet you want, get it up here to make sure you get your choice."

Taking her paper, Buffy scanned the choices and stopped on Emily Dickinson. Easy choice; done, bam. She smiled inwardly at the thought of the boy she'd had a crush on the first week she came to this school... Owen what's-his-face and his obsession with the poet. How she'd poured through any book she could find on Emily Dickinson in order to get an in with him. It actually turned into the beginning of many things as it was how she began spending more time in the library where she'd met Giles and then Willow and through her, Xander.

A definite plus was that she felt like she already knew enough about the poet to give her a little edge over the project. Take that.

She didn't bother to check to see if her partner was waiting for her to come to him. Instead she grabbed her copy of the paper and slid through the desks over to his where she saw Cordelia had migrated over.

Glancing at the back of the class she saw Spike had taken Queen C's original seat and was leaning close to Harmony; he was looking much more interested in being somewhere else non-class related with her. Jonathan had made his way up and was tapping Cordelia on the shoulder.

She turned around and glared at him. "I'm in the middle of a conversation that actually matters." She was looking at him as if he were supposed to know this to be common knowledge. "Shoo."

Jonathan looked stricken. "But... we have to pick someone for the project."

"That's nice," she said and turned back to her boyfriend. She was about to speak when she saw Buffy standing behind Liam. "And what do you want?"

"Nothing with you," Buffy retorted with amusement; she waited for Liam to turn around and when he didn't, she tapped him on the shoulder, although much rougher than Jonathan had with Cordelia. He turned to look at her, his shoulders slumping as Cordelia huffed behind him. He looked at Buffy like she was a leper and it pained him. Right. She sure wasn't any Cordelia 'Whore' Chase.

"Yeah?"

"Well?" She waited. He raised an eyebrow and Buffy noticed Cordelia in the background, waving her hand at Jonathan when he tried to get her attention once more. At least she was faring slightly better.

"Well what?" But only slightly. "Just pick someone, I don't care," he said as he turned his back on her.

Buffy's face hardened and she stared down at him before tapping him again, impatiently. He sighed dramatically and turned around fully in his seat but she didn't give him a chance to speak. She placed her copy of the assignments on the desk in front of him. "If you think for one second that I am doing this project alone, you are sadly mistaken. We'll meet in the library after school. We're doing Emily Dickinson."

"Whatever," he said, annoyance lacing his tone, "And we're not meeting in the library after school."

"Tough."

Liam smiled. "Screw you, Summers. I'm not meeting you anywhere."

Buffy could already hear the laughter starting in her head as he began the lovely trail down 'Buffy Humiliation.' The urge to cry, scream and punch him in the face flooded her system. She leaned down towards him. "Screw you, King Dick. Either you meet or you fail. Take your pick."

Liam smiled petulantly. "Fine." As if he were doing her a favor. "But not tonight."

"Well then when do you want to do this?" Buffy demanded.

"Tomorrow," he said with reluctance and Buffy watched him deflate as he turned his full attention to the piece of paper. "In your creepy library where no one will see us," he added softly but Buffy heard it and felt a little ping in her chest. He was a damn jerk.

"What's wrong with today?" Buffy asked impatiently, unable to keep herself from saying anything. At least he was meeting with her, she should be happy about that but what was wrong with today that he couldn't meet with her for one hour and then they can go on their merry ways. "Get it over with so you can go along on your merry little way."

Well hello there, lack-of-filter.

"I have stuff to do, it's none of your business," he said with finality. "Emily Dickinson?"

"Yeah." Buffy crossed her arms. "I know a bit about her already." She saw Cordelia staring at her before turning towards Jonathan. She rolled her eyes before adding with a little huff, "If that's alright with you."

Liam finally turned to look at her and she met his gaze for a split second before turning away, blushing. She fucking blushed. Where was the inflamed anger from a moment ago? Now she was blushing because he looked at her for longer than a split second. Stupid. Yes, very stupid. He looked back to the paper.

"That's fine, I don't care. We'll meet tomorrow, in the library?"

"Yeah, I already know where the books are for her."

He squinted at her and she wanted to both swallow her tongue for prolonging her exposure to his jerk-ways and then poke him in his squinty eyes. She glared at him. "Problem with that?"

"No," he said with a small saccharin smile. "Nothing."

"Fine." She snatched the paper from his hand, ignoring the little thrill in her chest at how close she had come to touching him. No, he's King Dick. He only deserved angry thoughts. Angry thoughts.

She didn't wait for his reaction before turning and walking back to her desk. She scribbled their choice on the bottom half, adding their names in the top corner. She tore it off as neatly as she could without ripping it to little bits. The sound of chatter was all around her as she took the slip up to where Ms. Murray sat at her desk, marking off something or other; it looked like homework. She periodically was looking up to make sure everyone was staying on task.

"Here, Ms. Murray."

The teacher looked up and smiled. "Thank you, Buffy." She set the slip down in front of her. She looked at the young girl. "You turned your homework in today, right?" Ms. Murray made a show of flipping through the rest of her stack. "I haven't run across your name yet."

Buffy blinked, a false smile popping onto her lips. "Yeah, of course. It should be in there."

Ms. Murray pursed her lips, nodding. "Alright." She glanced at the pink sheet she had just handed in and smiled. "Emily Dickinson? Lovely choice, you'll have a great deal of material to work with; I can't wait to see what you two come up with."

"Me too," Buffy replied, backing away, her smile falling away as she turned. Homework... right. _Shit_.

She stopped short when she saw someone sitting in her seat and she frowned at the faceless person, moving to grab her bag and notebook. She felt a reminding stab come from her side and she gaped, holding her breath for a moment until it melted into a dull throb. _See?_ she thought to herself. It was already going down a little... She saw Willow's seat was vacant and she looked around for her friends, noticing them in the corner near Ms. Murray's small bookshelf. Willow was pulling out a couple of books and gesturing while Xander stared at a large globe, nodding his head, only pretending to listen. One corner of Buffy's mouth lifted in a smile as she slid into her friend's empty desk, opening her notebook to a page at the end.

"Go away, Jonathan," she heard to her right. "We'll talk about it later!"

Buffy could hear the pout in the little man's voice as he stammered a limp comeback. Buffy actually felt a little bad for him and she turned to see him going back to his seat, shoulders slumped. There was a reason Cordelia was recognized as the cattiest bitch at Sunnydale High.

"So who did you two choose?" came the deep liquid voice of her project partner.

"I don't know, William Boros or something." Cordelia flipped her hair. The way she pronounced it made it sound like William Burroughs was a clown. Even Buffy knew who William Burroughs was - she must have paid attention somewhere. "It doesn't matter. Who are you doing?"

"You," Liam said slyly and Buffy felt her stomach turn. Cordelia scoffed but giggled. "No, Emily Dickinson."

"I hope you know enough about her since _she_," the scathing note in her voice didn't go unnoticed to Buffy's ears and she felt her face grow hot, "probably doesn't know how to spell her own name."

Liam smirked.

"She's not going to make you do all of it, is she?"

"I don't know; she did want to get started today. Meet in the library."

"Uh, hello, we have plans."

"Yes, thank you, Cordelia. That's why I said no. We're meeting tomorrow."

"Who's to say you won't have plans tomorrow?" she asked demurely.

Buffy couldn't see his face but judging by Cordelia's, she was pleased with the response she got.

"I do want to get it over with though. I don't want to be spending more time with her than I have to."

"I don't want you spending more time with her than you have to! She's a disease, Liam. She needs to be removed, like, ASAP."

Buffy felt like a rock had slipped into her stomach, a wallop of grief at the realization of what Liam actually thought about her. It was one thing to have it floating on the edges of her mind but to hear the actual words… It mixed bitterly with anger that she had to be privy to this conversation, to the stupid thoughts of people who weren't supposed to matter. She squeezed her eyes shut, the pain of their words caused tears to well up. It shouldn't matter, why did it hurt so bad? How did he have so much power over her?

"So what time are you coming over tonight?" Cordelia asked.

Buffy didn't wait to hear his response as the bell rang. She shot up out of her chair, not waiting for Xander or Willow as she darted to the door, her notebook and bag clutched in her hand. She could feel the strain in her hands where she gripped the notebook.

None of it mattered.

The last thing she heard before she escaped was Ms. Murray saying, "Liam and Cordelia! I have told you multiple times none of that in my classroom!"

Buffy felt like punching a wall.

* * *

"So... you and Liam... ?" Willow started, trying to look and sound thoughtful but failing, "I'm so sorry you have to be paired with him," she ended in a rush.

Buffy smiled, shaking her head. "It's no big, Will. It is what it is."

It was the end of the school day and they were waiting outside the school doors for Xander near the large oak tree. Buffy forced a bored, completely non-caring look on her face. She didn't care, she didn't need to fucking care about it. He agreed to meet her tomorrow and they would... and they would get what they could done and go their separate ways. There was no reason for her to spend more time than she already had after English thinking about all the ways she could pluck his hair out with tweezers and then immediately delve into thoughts about what his lips felt like. Annoyance flooded her chest.

_Get a grip, Buffy. He doesn't give a rat's ass about you... So why do you care?_

Stupid.

Willow opened her mouth to start and Buffy stopped her. "It's fine. We're meeting tomorrow, gonna do a little work and then probably work separately. It's probably better that way anyway." _Yeah it's better so I don't accidentally smack Cordelia Chase in the mouth._

"Still Buffy... I know you like him and-"

"It's a little crush, Willow, come on," Buffy said, joking, leaning back against the tree. She ignored the small crack in her voice and looked away.

Willow just smiled patiently.

"Hey, hey!" The girls looked up as Xander bounced to a stop next to them, his hands in his pockets. "What are we talking about?"

"The library," Buffy said immediately. Xander frowned at this and Willow picked it up.

"Yep, the library. Home of the books."

Buffy followed, "Where the books live."

"We're going to the library?"

"No, tomorrow," Buffy said. "Work on the project."

"What project?" Willow smacked Xander's shoulder and he flinched, whipping his head over to her. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Xander! Our English project?"

"Oh yeah, that thing..." He rocked on his feet, his hands shoved in his pockets. "It's not due for, like, a month right? We can leave it alone for a while..." Willow jabbed him in the chest and he shrugged at her with a knowing smile. Buffy chuckled.

"We need to go to the library anyway."

"What?" Xander's face morphed into what could only be described as horror. He looked to Buffy. "Does she have to go too?"

"My day's tomorrow, Xand, sorry."

"That's not fair. If I have to go, you have to go," he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her towards him. He gestured to her as if he were showing her off to a crowd. "My sweet Buffy-shaped friend, come on. I need my fair smart blonde chick to protect me from the freakishly-smart redheaded one."

"You could get a head start, Buffy," Willow added. "And you won't have to spend that long with Liam tomorrow."

Buffy signed. She wasn't sure whether that was a good idea or not. No, she was sure. Her head said yes, prepare what you will talk about, divvy out the separate assignments and then get out. Her heart argued the opposite. Take as much time as possible for him to stick around...

"You were _both_ going to meet in the library tomorrow?" Xander asked, dropping her hand. She frowned unwittingly; she was frowning because she agreed with him. Yes, let's call it that.

"Yeah; he is my partner." Unfortunately. For a brief second, Buffy marveled at how much easier this project would automatically be if she didn't have to deal with Liam Angelus. Or rather, her feelings for him.

"So he does have something akin to a brain inside that oddly-shaped forehead?"

Buffy couldn't help the snort of laughter. "Geez, Xander, how do you really feel?"

He shrugged. "I'm not trying to be mean... well, I am." Buffy shook her head, smiling. "But I just don't want you to do all the work... he's in the jerk squad, Buffy."

"That seems to be the popular opinion." Despite the fact that Buffy agreed with them - Liam was and always would be an asshole; not only to her but to everyone - she couldn't help that small voice in the back of her head that whispered 'what if...' over and over - but what if... what? Buffy felt like she was watching a tennis match between the rational and the irrational battle inside her head. "Besides I can just kick his ass if he wants to try that crap."

"No, I'll kick his ass if he tries anything."

Buffy smiled. "That's sweet of you to say but please, Xand, don't oversell me. I sincerely doubt that will happen and trust me on that."

It was Xander's turn to snort.

She waved her arm. "But you're right," she interrupted. Subject-change time. "Let us be library-bound."

She grabbed her backpack and turned around before the discussion of Liam Angelus could continue. It was just a project and one which Buffy was sure would require minimal contact until what she would now affectionately refer to as Doomsday a.k.a. the day of their presentation. "I just need to run to my locker and then I'll meet you guys there."

Buffy put the word 'brisk' to shame as she walked away. She didn't turn to see if they heard what she said or acknowledge it; she could feel their eyes burning into her back.

As she entered the school, she slowed her hurried pace, taking smaller steps and a deep breath. That wasn't obvious at all, turning and running away. She didn't really need anything in her locker besides the homework she obviously dropped the ball on - great, all the more reason to make this project work as best she could - there wasn't anything she needed from her English class to start doing a little research.

What she had wanted to do was get away from the sad and piteous looks being shoved down her throat by Willow. She loved her but there were just some things Willow couldn't understand about her life.

Turning around a corner, she headed towards her locker anyway. She could get started on the homework she had failed to do in her other classes. Pursing her lips, she thought back on how one of the teachers had called her name, asked her to stand up and explain to everyone why she thought she didn't have to turn in any homework. It had been so humiliating that Buffy had simply grabbed her bag and left the classroom. Why couldn't she do what normal teachers did and just fail her? And she did turn in her homework, when she worked on it. Most of her time outside of school was spent constantly avoiding confrontations, never staying in the same spot for too long unless she was sleeping. The only time she got a real chance was when she spent time in the library.

She remembered the last time she had done that and she flinched. He had railed her for coming home late that night and she hadn't stayed that long after school since. She felt the heat of tears in her eyes at his harsh words echoing in her head but she forced them down, swallowing her irrational tears. _Irrational wins again._

It wasn't worth it.

She signed. A lot of stuff seemed to be falling into that category lately.

* * *

Buffy paused outside the library doors, looking through the rounded windows to see if her friends had beaten her there. They sat at the large table in the center, Willow on a computer and Xander looking through a book before getting up and placing it on the shelf. He was talking to someone sitting behind the checkout counter in front of him.

She looked at the clock just outside the book return cage on the left and saw that school had been out for 30 minutes already. She bit the inside of her lip. A few more minutes wouldn't kill anyone. And it certainly wouldn't kill him; he probably wasn't home quite yet either way - he preferred a torn barstool any day.

It wasn't a half bad suggestion to get started today, get a head start on some information... spend less time with the King of the Jerk Squad. It was also a good idea so she didn't have to spend too many days after school too; either waiting for Liam or doing all the work by herself.

Annoyance streamed through her following the trail of her thoughts. _Besides_, she thought, _what's waiting at home?_

She entered the library.

Chatter immediately met her eats and even though her doom and gloom thoughts were ever present she couldn't help but smile. This was home; that was the feeling the library gave her. She always loved the library despite her scholarly advantages not being that great. But it wasn't the books that brought her here. It was Giles.

He was standing behind the counter; large piles of books were stacked around him as he stamped the inside cover of one and moved it to the 'done' pile. He had graying hair and large round glasses atop his nose that he was constantly adjusting. He was wearing one of his customary tweed suits that he never went anywhere without - it matched the sad excuse for a car sitting out in the faculty parking lot, his Citroen. The car had followed him from his native somewhere-over-there, England to Sunnydale, California. The first time Buffy had met him, he had eloquently told her she abused the English language to the point that his ears might start bleeding.

Mrs. Hatchkins may be the sweetest to her when it came to the Sunnydale High staff but Rupert Giles was the closest thing she had to a parent besides the two people who claimed that right outside of school.

He didn't glance up at her entrance as he continued his banter with Xander about... Buffy stopped, listening with amusement.

"This isn't what I came in here for, you know. I'll have you know that I am not enjoying this," Xander said. He dragged a book off the table and stared at the cover, almost daring it to reach out and slap him for manhandling it.

"Well, if you'd shelve them correctly, it would be much quicker," the librarian said without pause, not bothering to look up at Xander's activity. He stamped another book.

"I don't get your crazy system!"

"System?" Giles looked up, his hand pausing in mid-air. "It's called the alphabet, Xander."

Xander paused, looking down at the book in his hand and then at the books he'd already shoved into the small space. "Huh," he said and Buffy chuckled. "Would you look at that."

"Buffy," Rupert Giles said by way of greeting, a smile replacing the tone of disbelief in his voice. "A project in English is it?"

"That's the rumor," Buffy said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. "Emily Dickinson for me."

"Ah, yes," Giles said with a hint of a smile on his face. Buffy quirked an eyebrow at him.

"No need for a trip down memory lane, Giles," she said wryly. "I just like her poems."

"Yeah, it was her poems," Xander said mockingly from behind her and she turned to glare. "It had nothing to do with the gangly boy candy attached."

"It wasn't just Owen that got me into Emily Dickinson, thank you very much." Buffy had a sudden memory of flying into the library, startling the frazzled librarian when she demanded all the Emily Dickinson books he had. Stat! Although it was startlingly sad that her love life - or lack thereof - seemed to revolve around the poet...

_Notice any pathetic themes here, Buffy?_

"What happened to your forehead?"

Buffy shrugged, turning away from Giles' inquiring eyes and walking to the table where Willow sat.

"A little tiff in the hallway earlier," she said lightly, pulling out a chair. "My head made out with a locker," she continued sarcastically. That was one way to put it. She wished she had worn a hat or something into the library, she didn't want Giles to know about more of her fighting.

She could practically hear the frown on his face and she turned around to meet his gaze. She saw the wheels turning in his head. "Well it looks like you're bleeding through your bandage."

Buffy felt the overwhelming urge to tell Giles to forget about it and possibly to screw off at the continued talk about her forehead. The feeling bubbled in her chest and she felt her face growing how as she pushed against the sticky bandage. Instead of the sharp stinging pain from earlier, she felt a dull throb - but no more blood.

"Let me get some more, Buffy."

"It's no big, Giles, really," Buffy yelled after him, waving her hand as he disappeared. The edge in her voice only grated her nerves more. "No blood." There was no response from within his office.

It was no big deal. Why was he making it into a big deal? It was done and over with and she wanted to tell off everyone who suddenly reminded her of it. The fire in her chest felt too hot for a moment when the thought that she was ashamed to have Giles see her like this popped into her head.

It only served to remind her that she had so much more going on that made her scratch look tiny and so much more to hide. Amazing how it took the right person concentrating on the wrong thing for her mood to turn to shit.

"Seriously Giles!" Leave it alone.

"It doesn't look good, Buffy," she heard Willow say from behind her.

"Well that's kind of what a wound looks like, Will," Buffy snapped in reply as she yanked her notebook out of her bag and dropped it on the table with a loud slap. Thank you for stating the obvious.

"And she comes out swinging," Xander said. Buffy looked up, her eyebrows furrowed. Willow's face was puckered with hurt as she turned to her computer, failing to pretend that she hadn't just bit her head off for no reason. Xander continued to shelve books, not looking at her... almost like this was a common occurrence. Probably because it was. She sighed.

She may have the best friends she could ask for but she sucked at showing them, well, anything but an asshole in return.

"I'm sorry, Will." She smiled apologetically. She pushed her frustration down and she was rewarded with silent smiles. "I'm just cranky; it's been a long day."

"Sit down, Buffy," Giles said gently as he came up behind her. She did as he said, watching him set the battered First Aid kit on the table and open it up. "Now how exactly did your head, uh... 'make out' with a locker?"

"It was nothing."

"Lift your hair back, please." Giles slowly peeled back the blood-heavy bandage. "Good Lord, Buffy, this looks like more than nothing."

"Ok, it was a little serious." She noted neither Willow nor Xander were adding to the story for which she was grateful although they likely had different reasons than hers.

Giles looked down at her pointedly before taking a cotton ball to the dried blood around the still oozing wound. Nobody elaborated and he lifted an eyebrow. "I take it I'm not going to get the story behind this?"

Buffy shrugged. "There's nothing to tell." She played with her fingers, no longer flinching when he applied more peroxide. "Stories are overrated anyway."

Especially hers. If she started on one, why wouldn't another come out and then... things would unravel. It was better when they were alluded to and even if she was an asshole some of the time... it was better that all stories stayed out of the light. It was those kinds of things that she needed to keep to herself. Willow, Xander, Giles, Mrs. Hatchkins... they didn't need to know the extent of her home life. Hell, she was glad it was only Willow and Xander that knew about how her parents acted outside of the vicious rumors that barely touched on what her actual reality was. It wasn't anybody's business and she wasn't about to go around sharing it with anyone. Even Giles.

"So putting Xander to work with the books, eh, Giles?" Buffy gestured to her friend. "Isn't that a little cruel and unusual?"

"Ha ha... ha ha ha." Buffy grinned at Xander's response, his face close to the shelf. "I read."

"Comics in the newspaper don't count."

"Actually, madam," he said with flourish, standing and turning to face her. Buffy watched him with a pleased smile. She couldn't explain how glad she was that he had melted back into his normal self... "They do. I have it on good authority that they contain words that make my thinking good."

Willow stared at him. "Thinking good?"

"Well... think well."

Willow scrunched her nose.

"There we are," Giles said, pressing the new gauze to her forehead as they bantered in the background. "That should hold until you're home." He picked up a piece of her hair that had been sticking to her old bandage. "Unfortunately you had a little blood in your hair."

Brushing her hair back over the bandage, she waved him off. "It's good!" She smiled brightly at Giles. "Thank you." She proceeded to throw her bag on the floor and moved to the Poetry section. "I'm off to Emily Dickinson Land."

"Buffy." She felt Giles' hand on her shoulder and she turned to face him. Uh. Oh. She knew his look... only too well.

"You know if there is anything you need to talk about, you can come to me. I'm always here." He was looking down at her gently, his eyes telling her everything she didn't want to see. 'I know, I'm here, let me help...' She swallowed, forcing a smile. "To talk. Or anything you might need."

"I'm fine," Buffy said quickly. It occurred to her long ago that her close relationship with the librarian was something of the strange. So few people entered the library at all that any relationship with Mr. Giles would be strange but it didn't feel that way. His fatherly attitude towards her was more than enough to make her cry because she didn't have a father... he just treated her like the shit he occasionally stepped on outside.

The feeling of regret and hate towards Hank Summers bowled into her mind and the feelings warred with each other as she thought about the possibility of having a man like Giles as her father. Someone who loved her, who treated her the way a daughter was supposed to be treated. Who didn't abuse his wife and corrupt her into thinking that the only way to get rid of her pain was to turn to alcohol and ignore their only child. She bowed her head.

But it didn't change anything. Giles didn't need to know her ugliness any more than anyone else did.

"But thanks," she said in a low voice, turning away awkwardly and leaving him standing there as she rushed up the small staircase and into the stacks, unwilling to open that trapdoor.

* * *

The sky was darkening when Buffy approached the doorstep of her home. She could see the faint glow of the sun as it was setting against the dark blue of the coming night sky. It was beautiful and frightening because she could see the living room lights were on in her house. She slowed her steps.

By the time she had left the library it had already been 7:00 p.m. and Buffy had hurriedly grabbed her backpack from where she had left it on the lower level of the library, said a quick goodbye without pausing to elaborate and booked it home. She had almost wanted to say thank you that neither Willow nor Xander had followed her up there but she didn't. She had spent nearly three hours up in the stacks by herself, unwilling to go back down and have to look Giles in the face. Her hurried escape away from the soft and pity-filled look in his eyes made Buffy want to sneak out the back and just run away from it. The fact that her life - something that was so out of her control - made the people she loved around her feel bad made her sick. They didn't need to be exposed to any more than they already were just by knowing her.

She hated it.

The good news about running to the stacks was that she had gotten some interesting poems written down and some good ideas about what they could connect to. She had poured through books of her poems, thinking back to her days of Owen crushage and her current days of Liam crushage and wondering the entire time what the hell was wrong with her that she couldn't stop just liking people and man up and do something about it.

She cringed at the thought. She was better in the distance, away from normal people. They didn't need to be tarnished by her. The only reason Willow and Xander were so close to her was because she had control - they still didn't see the worst of it. And they hopefully never would.

So do something about it as in turning off that treacherous feeling switch. Easier said than done.

Buffy paused at the front door, listening for a moment; she wasn't sure if she was waiting for the sound of a television or the sound of someone's scream as their head slammed into a wall. She swallowed thickly before opening the door.

And she stopped.

The disaster she had left this morning was nowhere to be seen. The furniture had been put back into place as it had been when they had first moved into the house and the long lamp that had settled into its rut on its side was now standing in the corner and on. It created a warm glow in a place that had no warmth. The illusion was shocking.

Entering the room, she closed the door softly. It was empty. Taking a closer look, she saw the large stain from a whiskey spill on the carpet where it had sat for two days after a particularly unhappy encounter between her parents. Buffy was disturbed that it calmed her; made her realize that this wasn't her world turning upside down - again - but instead a worthless attempt to hide what was a glaring reality.

"Where have you been?"

Buffy jumped and spin, dropping her bag, her hand flying to her chest. Hank Summers stood behind her and Buffy instinctively shrank back. He stood tall, a shadow in the otherwise lit room and she looked down. She noticed his hands were balled into fists.

"I was at school... I-I had a project due for English. We just lost track of time-"

She didn't get a chance to finish as his hand shot out, grabbing her t-shirt, yanking her closer to his face. She let out a small sound of resistance, the flame of bravado she carried so confidently at school distinguishing immediately. "We? Who the fuck were you with, your fuck buddy Harris?"

"Let me go," Buffy said, her throat suddenly dry. It sounded more like a hoarse whisper as she fought back tears. The grasp he held on her shirt was closing the material around her neck and the more she struggled, the more it tightened around her. "Please."

"Please," Hank said, his voice mocking. In response he dragged her with him into the dining room and Buffy saw her mother sitting at the table, staring down at the pathetic excuse for what looked like dinner. Lumpy mashed potatoes sat in a cracked bowl and what could barely pass for meatloaf was in the center of the table. Both her parents' plates looked used. There was a candle in the middle of the table, flickering madly as the disturbed air reached it. Joyce didn't look up; she seemed to be in a staring match with the fire, the fork in her hand hovering with forgotten food.

"You missed dinner," Hank spat, forcing her to sit in the chair closest to his. She fought for balance as the chair tipped, biting her lip. She didn't say anything, staring at her own empty plate. "You're always fucking late, always out fucking around." He slapped the table and both women jumped. "I'm so fucking sick of your lack of generosity!"

"You're father found a new job." Buffy looked to her mother. She was talking to the candle more than her. She could see a dark shadowed area across the side of her face, barely visible by the lack of light in the dining room. It hadn't been there before. Buffy swallowed, bitter anger and fear roiling in her chest.

"That's what you have to say? Nothing?"

Buffy didn't look up.

"That's what you are, nothing." Hank reached over and snatched her plate, tossing it to the other side of the table. It rolled off and slapped into the floor with a dull crack. "You don't get any fucking food tonight, you ungrateful little girl. Get out of my sight."

Buffy didn't have to be told twice, standing up quickly and turning to leave the room. For a split second she thought about opening her mouth, telling her father to burn in hell but she couldn't, an innate fear stopping her. She didn't get far. Hank moved to follow her, his hand finding the base of her skull and grabbing a chunk of her hair. Buffy cried out, fighting against his hand as he pulled her back. She felt her feet slipping as she fell, her scalp burning where he'd tugged. She landed on the floor with a loud thud and she rolled into a ball as he towered over her.

"No!" she shouted. He pulled her arms away from her face, kneeling next to her.

"No... leave me alone!" she yelled, struggling against him. He yanked her closer and his knee jabbed into her already bruised ribs and it knocked the breath out of her, the pain instantly blooming. She fell limp in shock and she thought she saw stars for a moment. All she could breathe was pain... She closed her eyes, feeling like the floor was falling from underneath her. She only wished.

"If you're ever late for dinner," he said harshly, leaning across her. She turned her head away from his hot breath, tears falling from the corners of her eyes. "You won't ever walk out of this house again."

A sob escaped from Buffy's throat and she shook her head. _No, no... get away from me..._ Her mind was full of broken thoughts, racing in crooked circles. The tears that leaked from her eyes were painful on her skin.

Buffy gasped as Hank cuddled the sides of her head, his thumbs wiping her eyes and cheeks roughly. "Don't you fucking cry, you have nothing to cry about."

Buffy bit her tongue, her tongue finding blood, and she kept her eyes closed as he squeezed her head painfully. Every inch of her body told her to run, get out, get away but she couldn't move. The ache in her side was the only part of her body that she was aware of and she felt paralyzed.

Suddenly his fingers were grasping the taped gauze on her forehead and he ripped it off. Buffy let out a cry, the sensation of her skin being pulled and her hair being ripped out along with it coming out of nowhere.

"What the fuck is this from?" Hank asked angrily. _Let me get out... let me get away..._ "Look at me, Buffy, look at me right now."

_No, just hide_... Hank slapped her cheek and Buffy's eyes flew open, Her sobs coming more forcefully now. He jerked the bandage in front of her face, seeing only the dried blood.

"You better not be getting into more fights, young lady," he said in a low voice and Buffy cowered down. "What the fuck is this from?"

"I... I tripped, I'm sorry," Buffy babbled, her words slurred slightly from her tears. "I just fell, I swear."

"You better not be lying," he said with a quiet rage, shoving the bandage back against her head. "If I find out you're lying to me, I'll do more than cut your head." The tape landed on her cut and rubbed into it and Buffy closed her eyes against it.

And then the pressure was gone; his looming presence disappeared as he stood up.

"Make yourself useful and clean up this mess," he said with derision. "Joyce."

All Buffy could hear was the soft footsteps of her mother as she stood and followed her husband. When they entered the hallway, she heard a soft cry, the sound of flesh being slapped gently before their bedroom door closed. She heard muffled words as her mother tried to calm him. He didn't need to be calmed... he needed to be...

Buffy held her breath, curling into a ball, a sob bursting free. She hated him, she hated her... she hated her life. She hated it all and she wished there was a way - any way - she could stop it. The sound of her mother's pained cries became her morbid lullaby as she squeezed her eyes tighter.

_Please save me, please save me... get me away... make it go away..._

Buffy didn't move for hours.


End file.
